


Dreams of a Life

by gonta



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: SHSL Despair - Freeform, also i guess theres an oc in this but hes not named or anything, angst as FUK, remnants of despair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 19:27:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8590720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonta/pseuds/gonta
Summary: A strange boy arrives in a village, one day.Despair!Imposter oneshot. I really wanted to figure out what they would do as a remnant of despair. This has been in the works for a while, I hope you enjoy it.





	

Time had come to a stop in Kawazu.  
  
The town was once known for its cherry blossoms, but the trees were bare of their flowers. The sky was a dark red color. It was almost as if someone had plucked the blossoms off their branches, ground them into a fine paint, and had gone about recoloring the air above. Nothing moved among the rubble of old buildings, streaked with graffiti detailing images of black-and-white bears and nearly illegible kanji. The revolution had touched this place, but it had long since left.  
  
The tall man stood pointedly in the middle of what had once been a bustling road, surveying his surroundings. If there had been anyone living here, they were long gone now. Either they were killed or they had gone off with Super High School Level Despair. He shuddered, not wanting to dwell on either possibility. Today was a new day, after all. A day when he and his army would set up camp.  
  
Turning to the group of people behind him, he felt almost like a proud father as he watched them work. Elpis's Army, he had called them in a stroke of genius. They were a rebel force meant to strike against the SHSL Despairs, and had already made quite a name for themselves. They were going to save the world, and Kawazu would be their Mecca. As he slipped away from the crowd to explore their surroundings, he could almost picture it: monuments to their bravery erected in the small town years from then, their names synonymous with those of ancient freedom fighters. Yes, that was the future they wanted to create.  
  
"H-hey, is somebody there? Please, help me! Get me out of here!"  
  
The tall man's thoughts were interrupted by a voice he didn't recognize, coming from around a corner. Could it be a survivor of whatever had happened in the town? Or, he realized, it could be a Remnant of Despair trying to draw him out. Drawing his pistol out of his pocket, he slowly rounded the corner and thrust the weapon out in front of him.  
  
The owner of the voice let out a shout. "Oh god, don't shoot me. I've been here for days with no food or water... I can't afford to go like this! P-please, help me out of here..."  
  
The tall man allowed himself a glance at the other person, and immediately began to feel guilty for thinking they were a remnant of despair. Submerged up to his chest in a pile of concrete rubble was a teenage boy who looked as though he had seen better days. His chubby cheeks were streaked with dirt, and his auburn hair hung limply over his forehead. His expression was one of utter exhaustion, and his heavily bagged eyes only made him look more tired. The man couldn't help but feel sorry for the boy, and was surprised he had even lasted this long.  
  
He gave him a languid glance. "Can you put that down?"  
  
"Huh?" The tall man's eyes shot down to his gun, and he quickly lowered it. "Sorry. Okay, just hang on a second-" Shoving it back into his pocket, he ran over to the teenager and yanked on his outstretched arms. It took a lot of force and time, but he eventually managed to drag him out from under the pile of rubble.  
  
The boy coughed, and began to slowly try to stand up. He was very heavyset, and was wearing what appeared to be an extremely dusty high school uniform. His face had an odd appearance to it that the tall man couldn't place. "Thanks," the boy wheezed, "I thought I was gonna die under there."  
  
"It's no problem, young man," the tall man tried to make himself look more respectable. He was the leader of a rebel army, after all, and he had just saved this boy's life. He would have to follow him, wouldn't he? "What is your name?"  
  
"My... name?" The boy appeared hesitant for a second, but quickly shook it off. "I'm Fumihiro Shinko. I lived here for a while but then - you know, the... thing... happened."  
  
"The Worst Incident, yes." He slung an arm over Shinko's shoulder, causing him to jump. "I'll get you medical attention, okay? There's a bunch of us here."  
  
He smiled, clearly quite grateful that he had been freed. "I'd like that, I think."

 

As he was getting bandaged up, Shinko gave up some information about himself to the rebels. He was eighteen years old, was planning to major in biology in college, and had been living in Kawazu all his life. Oh yeah, and he also couldn't remember anything from after the Worst Incident happened up to when he found himself under the pile of concrete.  
  
One of the rebels raised an eyebrow at this. "That seems weird, though. What happened to you?"  
  
Shinzo shrugged. "I know as much as you do. I was watching the news, and they were talking about something going on at Hope's Peak. I heard a scream, and looked out the window... next thing I knew, though, I was stuck." Smiling sheepishly, he fidgeted with his hands. "I don't know where my family is. I'm pretty sure I've lost everything."  
  
The tall man turned to the group of gawking people. "We're letting him stay with us until he fully heals. After all, we all know what it's like to lose people to Despair," The crowd murmured to each other at this. "You're all dismissed."  
  
The rebels slowly dispersed to go back to what they were doing before. The man looked back at Shinko. The expression on his face was full of uncertainty. Something in the man's heart tugged for this boy, who had nothing left but himself. "Get some sleep, kid," was all he said was he left him behind in the first aid tent.

 

"Why are you doing this, exactly?" The tall man looked up from his lunch the next day to see Shinko, scarfing down some rations while looking at him inquisitively. The poor kid must've been hungry as all get out, he thought. It was strange that he had spoken to him, though; Shinko hadn't spoken to anyone since the day before.  
  
He put down his sandwich. "Doing what?"  
  
"You know... this," he gave a vague gesture. "This thing... uh, what was it called again? Old fish army?"  
  
"Elpis's army,"  
  
"Oh right, sorry. What does that even mean?"  
  
"Elpis is the spirit of hope in Greek mythology," explained the tall man. "I thought it was symbolic of our cause."  
  
A weird look crossed the boy's face for a second, but was quickly gone. "Right, okay. So then why did you form a rebel army? It seems like something out of a dystopian novel or a sci-fi manga."  
  
"Well..." He trailed off, searching for an answer. In all honesty, it was because he wanted to be a hero. But that didn't sound like a good answer to give this new potential disciple. "I wanted to give people hope, that maybe someday we'll be free of Super High School Level Despair." Yeah, that sounded cool.  
  
Shinko raised an eyebrow. "You don't sound that confident."  
  
"It's going to take a lot of work, Shinko-kun. That's a fact. We're just going to have to accept that, but eventually we'll be able to overpower Despair."  
  
The boy shrugged and returned to eating. He seemed content with the answer for the time being, but it was still impossible to know whether or not it would spur him to join the army. He would just have to see, it seemed.

 

Time passed, as it always does. The tall man began to notice Shinko talking to more people in the Kawazu camp. He felt an odd sensation of pride at watching the introverted boy open up. In a way, he reminded him of himself. It was why he liked him so much, he supposed.  
  
So he had a newfound confidence when he pulled Shinko aside from a conversation he was having with a senior commander. "Shinko-kun, we're having a strategy meeting tonight," he said proudly. "I think you should come, we're going to decide what to do next."  
  
Shinko turned towards the tall man. He really did look better than he did when they found him. His body type hadn't changed, but he certainly looked less haggard. "Sure, I guess." He smiled, but there was something behind it, like an eel moving through seaweed. Before the tall man could question this, however, he mumbled an excuse and dashed off.

 

They met that night in an abandoned house. The rebel soldiers crowded around a table, at which the man stood at the head. A map was laid on the table, with various locations marked off on it. The tall man took out a rolled up piece of paper and spread it out next to the map, eliciting groans from some of the rebels.  
  
"We still can't get better pictures, huh?" Someone sighed. "Who drew these, anyway?"  
  
He glared at the dissident, who quickly shrank back. "If you can find a working computer and printer with which to print out better pictures, feel free to get them. However, I don't see any, so we'll have to use this for the time being."  
  
The large piece of paper was divided with three horizontal lines and five vertical lines. In each rectangular area formed by the lines, the bust of a person was drawn. Though the drawings were somewhat crude, a few key features could be made out on each one - a boy with pink hair, a girl with banana-shaped pigtails, a man with what appeared to be lightning bolts coming out of his eyebrows, and a figure with flowing black hair occupied some of the spaces.  
  
"... As you know," the man explained, "these are the Remnants of Despair. All former Hope's Peak students recruited by that she-devil Junko Enoshima." He let out a hacking cough after saying this name, and a few soldiers shuddered. "In the past, we've only had to worry about grunts coming after us... however, as of late, we've grown in numbers. It's entirely possible that one of them could come after us, now." The tall man noticed Shinko standing towards his left, his eyes darting from one direction to another. He didn't appear to have anything to say, though, so he continued. "Fortunately, most of them seem... rather dramatic, so it's likely we'll know if one of them is coming."  
  
Someone in the back raised their hand. "Isn't one of them practically a hitman, though?"  
  
"I was getting to that. There's three we might have to worry about coming up from behind on us. There's the Super High School Level Swordswoman, though she usually stays with another one of the Remnants. The possibility of her attacking us alone is unlikely."  
  
"Second of all, there's Izuru Kamakura. Honestly, though... god help us if he decides to come along." He shook his head. "I kept in touch with another rebel force a while ago. Kamakura-san slaughtered every single one. I don't think we can prepare for that, but we can try," He cleared his throat. "The last one is-"  
  
"Who's that?"  
  
Shinko had been silent for most of the meeting, but the tall man looked up to see him jabbing a pudgy finger at one part of the despair sheet. Instead of showing a caricature of a Remnant, this one only had a stick figure with a question mark on its head in lieu of a face. No name was written near it.  
  
He sighed, smoothing his hair back. "I was getting to that one, but they're a whole other can of worms." The tall man folded his hands on top of the table. "That's the Super High School Level Imposter."  
  
A murmur erupted in the audience in response to this. Shinko, however, looked incredulous. "The... what."  
  
"No one knows who they are, or what they do," a rebel on the right side of the table volunteered. "I've heard that to see their face is to stare death straight in the eyes..."  
  
Another rebel punched him in the arm. "You made that second part up, dummy," she grumbled.  
  
The tall man raised an eyebrow, but did not comment on their antics. "The first part is correct, though. I haven't heard of them attacking anyone, but we should still stay wary."  
  
Shinko nodded, deep in thought. "That's weird," he muttered. He looked as though he was about to say something else, but he stayed quiet.  
  
The tall man lifted an eyebrow. "Alright," he addressed the crowd. "We should probably move out in a week or so before they determine our location and attack us." A few rebels nodded in agreement. "Well then, does anyone else have anything to share?"

 

A few days after the meeting, the tall man was pulled aside by one of his senior commanders. "Let's take a walk, you and me," she muttered, walking him around a street corner.  
  
"What? Is there something you'd like to discuss with me, Shoda-chan?" He tried his best to look unconcerned, but something about her sudden brusqueness unsettled him.  
  
She pulled him along for another couple blocks until they were far away from the camp, where no one could hear them. "Look, I trust your judgement. You're our leader, after all, and I'd probably be dead without you," She glanced left, then right. "But I think something is seriously up with that kid you took in,"  
  
This was not what the tall man had been expecting. He pulled back from Shoda. "Shinko? You must be joking."  
  
"I knew you would react like this," she snapped. "I know he's like a fucking son to you or some contrived shit like that, but something is seriously wrong here. Isn't it weird that every building here looks like it's been abandoned for months, but he said he'd only been stuck under those rocks for a few days?"  
  
"It's entirely possible that everyone else in the town was kidnapped by Super High School Level Despair," he said. He was losing patience with the senior commander, though he tried not to show it.  
  
"And not only that, he said he'd been without food or water for five days. I might believe the food part, but humans can only survive for three days without water! I think he's lying."  
  
"That's quite enough, Shoda-san." The tall man intoned, an irritated look twisting his features. "Are you suggesting that we leave him behind just because you're suspicious of him?"  
  
"Well- that's exactly what I'm suggesting, I guess," she grumbled. The change in her honorific had not gone unnoticed.  
  
"It's basic military creed, you know," he spit. "You never leave a man behind. I'm ashamed of you, frankly."  
  
She huffed, on the verge of tears. "Don't come crying to me when it turns out that I'm right," Shoda muttered. She ran off towards the camp before the tall man said anything else. He sighed, dragging a hand across his face.

 

Things only got worse.  
  
The next day, two rebel soldiers ran up to the tall man while he was eating breakfast. Their faces were pale and drenched with sweat. "I think you need to see this, sir," one of them stammered.  
  
He followed them outside and attempted to keep up with them as they winded through city blocks, past bare cherry trees. The soldiers came to a halt in front of what appeared to be flat ground. He was about to protest, but-  
  
Then, he looked down.  
  
There was a pit in the ground, a smashed part of the road that formed a bowl shape.  
  
And in the pit, dozens upon dozens of bodies were piled. All in various stages of decay, all civilians. The smell from the pit was almost as rank as the smell of the tall man's vomit once he saw one particular corpse.  
  
It was thin and lanky, and its limbs were sprawled out in various directions. A bloody boys' school uniform was draped over it. Its auburn hair gave way to agonized, bloodshot eyes. Though the body type was different, there was no mistaking it.  
  
On top of the pile of cadavers was the body of Fumihiro Shinko.

 

The tall man cornered the boy he had rescued from the rubble so many weeks ago in an empty tent. He wasn't sure what he should be calling him anymore. "We need to talk," he growled.  
  
Shinko - or not-Shinko - regarded him with an expression of concern. "Did something happen, sir?"  
  
"Did something happen? I don't know, you tell me. Did something happen when I rescued you from the rubble? That you had supposedly been imprisoned under for days?"  
  
"I... I don't understand, sir."  
  
"What the FUCK is there to understand?!" Spat the tall man. He was seething, so much so that he dropped his leader act. "You've been lying to me, whoever you are. You're not leaving this tent until you tell me who I am, and that an order."  
  
"I want you to guess."  
  
"H-huh?" The man staggered backwards, not-Shinko's voice had suddenly dropped several octaves, and had acquired a dull tone to it. The boy looked at him as if he were inconsequential.  
  
"You can't even make a simple guess? For a 'glorious leader', you certainly are incompetent." A snide grin crossed his features, and he clasped his large hands together. "Do you need a fucking hint?"  
  
"I... you..."  
  
He shrugged. "Fine, then, I'll give you one."  
  
The tall man would never forget the terrible sound of silicone prosthetics being ripped from bare skin. When he was finished, the boy in front of him was nearly unrecognizable. His eyes were almond-shaped and deep red with Despair Fever, and were flanked by inky, dark eyebrows shaped like orange slices. His auburn wig gave way to slicked-back black hair that reached his shoulders. This new person stared at the tall man with an intensity he had never before seen.  
  
"...You." He managed to choke out.  
  
A smirk crossed their features. "What was it that one of your underlings said? 'To see their face is to stare death straight in the eyes?'" They placed a hand to their stomach and did a mocking bow. "I guess I have to live up to their expectations, now."  
  
The tall man reached for his pistol- only to realize that it wasn't there. The imposter held it up, twirling it between their fingers. Before the man could react, they had him pinned up against the side of the tent. The gun's cold barrel was jammed up against his chest. "Any last words?" They questioned.  
  
The tall man spit. "F-fuck you."  
  
"That's what they all say. You'd think that people would be more creative."

 

The imposter donned their wig and prosthetics again, and gathered everybody in the center of camp. They all regarded them with expressions of concern. "What is it, Shinko-kun?" A soldier asked.  
  
They lowered their eyelids and frowned, in an expression of sadness. "The leader- he's dead."  
  
Outrage broke out almost immediately. Someone began to scream. It took them a few minutes, but they finally managed to calm everyone down.  
  
"However..." they trailed off, not sure how to continue. "He left one last message for you all. I found it on his phone."  
  
"Well, then?! Show us!" Someone shouted.  
  
They nodded. "If you insist." The imposter removed a smartphone from their pocket and opened up a particular file they knew all too well.  
  
"zetsubou_video.wmv"  
  
The town of Kawazu was almost as silent as it was before the rebels arrived as everyone took in the video. There were shouts of protests and screams of agony, but those quickly died down as the soldiers became enrapt by the despair-inducing footage. For several minutes, no one moved.  
  
The video ended.  
  
The imposter put their phone away. "You really don't know how long I've been waiting here," they said. "But honestly? I'm very happy that this assignment was given to me." They looked at the soldiers. Their eyes, swirling with pure despair, met theirs. A grin crossed their false features.  
  
"Now, I've decided I'll be your leader."

**Author's Note:**

> The fic's title is taken from the documentary of the same name: It's about a woman who dies while wrapping christmas presents, and no one finds her body until three years later. No one went looking for her, and the presents were still there and the TV was still on. It mostly refers to the real Shinko.  
> "Fumihiro Shinko" is actually the name of one of my ocs, who I guess is dead in this... oops.  
> As for the tall man, he purposefully doesn't have a name. He's just another face in the crowd.


End file.
